


Curing the Fever (NSFW Manorian)

by Rhysand_vs_Rowan



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12502976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysand_vs_Rowan/pseuds/Rhysand_vs_Rowan
Summary: Manon is forced to leave a meeting early due to a suspected illness. Luckily for her and Dorian, none of the Thirteen guessed exactly what was wrong.





	Curing the Fever (NSFW Manorian)

**Author's Note:**

> **This does NOT contain spoilers for "Tower of Dawn", and is a soft-sequel to my other fic "A Cure for Nightmares (NSFW Manorian). It is not necessary to read that fic before this one.**

 

* * *

 

##  **Curing the Fever**

“Manon, are you alright?” Sorrel could hold her tongue no longer.

Ever since the midday break, their leader had been… off. Her movements were stiff, her face flush, and when Sorrel ‘accidentally’ bumped into her she’d been hot to the touch. The other witches noticed it too. Hell, even  _Dorian_  kept casting glances at her during their evening meeting, studying her anxiously.

“You don’t look yourself,” he agreed with Sorrel immediately. Concern lit his eyes even as he drummed his fingers on the oak table, a nervous tick he’d developed, “Do you need some rest?”

“ _No._ ” Manon snapped. She shot a glare to his fingers, still tapping, “You’re annoying me.”

Sorrel sensed this argument began  _long_  before they arrived at the meeting.

“My apologies, Your  _Sensitive_  Highness,” he stopped tapping his fingers, but that nervous tick traveled down to his foot and he tapped it on the floor- silently at least, “is that better?”

Manon’s glare was  _withering_ , and Sorrel wasn’t sure if it was fever or anger that cast a pink tint to her face and gave her a thin sheen of sweat.

It wasn’t out of place for them to worry about Manon’s health, not as they spent their third week in a row squatting in some abandoned castle. Asterin and the others detected no signs of life in the area, and the wyverns seemed content, but it was cold, drafty, and damp thanks to the endless rain. Sorrell, Briar, Edda, and Ghislaine were already down with the flu, and Imogen had been chugging water all day to help with what she  _insisted_  was a mere sore throat.

Asterin didn’t fight Manon’s assertion that she  _wasn’t_  in need of hot soup and a long rest, but only because she knew it was a lost cause. Manon could be bleeding out of her eyeballs and she would still insist she was perfectly fit.

“ _Asterin_ ,” Manon hissed, “ _continue with your report._ ”

Her second rolled her eyes, but did as Manon ordered, “There are plains a few hours flight north with plenty of large game for the wyverns. The village that was out there has been destroyed by Morath’s forces. We picked off a few monsters who were still lurking, but all human life is gone. To the east and west are dense forests, but we caught scent of nothing troubling. To the south, as you know, is a bit of forest and a ton of swamp.” Indeed, they’d flown over that same swamp to find this place.

“Faline and Fallon did sweeps as far as a day out. So far they’ve covered the north and west with no sign of any more of Erawan’s experiments. They’re moving east, but don’t expect to find anything. Winds coming from that direction have been clear.” Vesta was in charge of the daily patrol and added her information where Asterin’s was lacking.

Dorian went back to tapping his fingers, and Sorrel wondered if he wasn’t  _trying_  to piss Manon off so that she would end the meeting, storm off to their chambers, and get some damned rest.

“Any signs of the Crochans?” Manon leaned over the table to grab a cup of water, then froze halfway through the motion. Her eyes were unfocused and she swayed before quickly pushing herself back to sit straight up. Even so, she seemed to weave.

“No, and now I’m going to  _insist_  you get some rest  _right now_.” Asterin snapped, “Manon, you need to trust me to take care of the thirteen and you  _need to take it easy_. We don’t have access to medicine out here and-“

“I’m fine!” Manon snarled, but her voice was somewhat breathless. She shuddered and sweat beaded on her brow.

“YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE GOING TO PASS OUT!”

Dorian simply stood and walked around the table to where she sat, “They’re right Manon, you look terrible. Can you even stand right now?” He crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

Manon didn’t answer, she just closed her eyes and took several deep breaths that sounded more like she was trying to snarl.

Dorian rolled his eyes, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to her feet. Manon hissed- not in anger but against the shaking that wracked her body when she stood. Dorian held her tight, bracing her as her legs threatened to give out. He stayed perfectly still as she shook.

“I’m taking her to our chambers,” Dorian told the others. Asterin nodded, tight-lipped. She was worried about Manon, but there was also a bit of triumph in her eyes as her cousin was  _finally_  forced to acknowledge her ailment.

Even Sorrel let out a breath, “I’ll bring some stew later.”

“Thank you Sorrel, but for now I’ll just give her some fruit and see if she can keep it down.” Dorian offered her a small smile. He wrapped his arm more firmly around Manon and prompted her to walk. They made it a step together before she began to curse under her breath and another shiver wracked her. Her coloring was getting worse.

“An ice bath before the fruit,” Asterin advised, “make sure the fever doesn’t rise.”

“I will.” Dorian focused on helping Manon walk from the room, though every step seemed to be a challenge.

Their chamber was on the farthest side of the castle from the others- something the Thirteen had  _insisted_  on to be spared from Dorian and Manon’s evening fun. The walk was complete hell for Manon, but Dorian supported her without complaining and paused when she asked him to until they reached the large oak doors of their suites.

Dorian took Manon through the reception parlor and into the bedroom they were sharing, which featured a massive four-poster bed, a desk with candles already burning, wardrobe, and a private bathing room.

“I think you need to lay down, you aren’t looking so well.” The concern left Dorian’s eyes and he released Manon, then  _stomped_  over to sit in the window. He pushed it open and breathed in fresh air.

She had to grab one of the wooden beams of the bed to keep herself from falling as she cried out and doubled over. Manon cursed Dorian soundly.

“It’s not my fault you got so  _sick_.” He grinned, “Your fever does look  _terrible_ , should I send a cool breeze?” he flicked a finger and did just that, redirecting chilled air to blow across her brow.

“ _You son of a whore_ ,” Manon held herself up and bit her lip as he continued to tap his foot  _and_  drum his fingers on his knee.

Dorian’s smile was predatory, “All you have to do is say the word and it all stops.”

Manon bit her lip harder. She didn’t  _want_  to break the spell, nor did she want to admit defeat.

He stood and walked over to her irregularly- sometimes stepping softly, other times stomping. He chuckled as it made her double over and her knees sag, until she was holding herself only inches off the floor.

When he got to Manon he lifted her face in his hands and gave her a long, hard kiss. Dorian began to tap his foot against the floor harder and Manon’s body shook. She panted and moaned into his mouth as he held her firm and kissed her soundly.

At last, Dorian stopped and shoved Manon onto the bed face-first. Her feet remained planted on the floor, leaving her rear on full display for Dorian’s admiration.

“ _Please_ ,” she gasped.

Dorian smirked and pressed himself against Manon’s backside. He pushed her linen shirt up and smiled broadly at the sweat dripping down her spine, “You’re a mess.”

“You have no idea.” She panted, “Can I-“

“Take off your shirt.” Dorian lowered himself to lick along the column of her spine as Manon yanked the top over her head and threw it onto the floor. She moaned at the feeling of his tongue against her skin and the cool trail that was left in its wake.

Dorian pushed against her once more as his mouth reached higher and he slid his hands beneath Manon to cup her breasts through the loose fabric she’d bound around them. He kneaded them for a while as he found new places to kiss away Manon’s sweat, then released the tie at the back to free her breasts fully. Dorian’s hips rocked against her, letting her feel how hard he was.

“Their concern was inspiring,” Dorian chuckled. He pushed Manon to the side and she rolled over, still keeping her feet on the floor and her legs spread to accommodate Dorian as he pressed against her core through her pants.

He began to tap that foot again and Manon’s eyes bulged. She arched her back and he pinched her nipples. She was a panting, frothing mess and when it was her turn she was going to make him  _suffer_.

Dorian began to undo the laces of her pants, even as he tapped that foot and felt a pulse from her core.

Well, not  _exactly_.

He kept the smug mask on, but beneath it he was acutely aware of that thin line between pain and pleasure they were flirting with. He wanted nothing but the best for Manon, and right now she needed relief.

He slid her pants down, revealing tight leggings that were just  _barely_  responsible for the red tint to her skin and that rapidly growing sheen of sweat. She was warm in them, yes, but he stopped to bend over and lick across the center of those leggings, “You’re already soaking through these too. We left at the right time, they’d have all been able to smell you soon.”

Manon whimpered and reached down to remove the second layer of pants, but Dorian quickly caught her hands in ones of air and pinned her arms above her head.  _He_  hooked his fingers into the band and slid them away, revealing the first of two pair of underwear. They were dispatched as a musky scent filled the air- one even Dorian’s human nose could detect.

He’d teased her as she slipped on extra layers to hide behind, but he had to admit, it worked.

Mouth watering, he removed her final layer of underwear- soaked as they were- and knelt between Manon’s legs with a wink to her and a smile.

The lips of her sex were swollen and red with desire. As Dorian leaned closer, he could  _feel_  the heat rippling from within and see drops of creamy white moisture shining, inviting his tongue to have a taste.

Manon didn’t even moan when he licked her, not that his tongue could go far. He felt a small knob at the apex of her thighs, a stone warmed by her body, and wrapped his teeth around it. Dorian pulled it back and  _then_  Manon let out a scream. Her back arched further and Dorian was forced to release what he was tugging at or risk his teeth being knocked in by it.

“How many times did you come in that meeting?” he whispered as he reached up to pinch that bubble of stone with his fingers. He slid it in and out of her a few times, tapping his foot against the floor.

“ _Twice!_ ” Manon cried out as her legs tried to close on that thing Dorian was rocking inside her body. Every time he tapped his fingers a soft pulse was emitted, and every time he tapped his foot (or stomped it, the bastard) a harder shudder wracked it. He kept her legs apart with his shoulders alone, enjoying the feeling of her fighting her own body to stay wide open for him.

Dorian pulled the thing far enough out to see where that little knob connected to the base of a smooth stone cock that vanished between those dripping, silken lips, then shoved it back in hard. Manon moaned and began to shudder around it. Her entire body shook, her gasps became cries, and Dorian kept tapping his foot and fingers together, kept pulling it out an inch only to shove it back in.

Her hands tangled in the sheets, holding herself on the edge of the world as he threatened to send her flying straight off. The danger passed, her walls suddenly released the stone rod, and her legs went limp as she began to whimper. Every time Dorian shoved it back in, her entire body flinched away from it as though she was being struck- and not in a fun way.

“How many times have you come  _now_?” He whispered.

“ _Three_.”

Dorian kept pumping the stone, but slower, and each time he pulled it out he only pushed it back in a little.

“ _Please_ ,” he freed Manon’s hands in an instant and she put one on his wrist to shove his hand away, “it’s too much.”

“I know,” he lifted her hand off of his and kissed her palm gently before setting it aside, “just a little longer.” They’d played with the stone cock before, and he knew that if he were to just yank it out of Manon, it would only cause pain after being inside of her for so long. He kept rocking it, whispering comfort to her as he eased it out half an inch at a time.

Her core was oversensitive and sore from holding the invader for so long- from climaxing so hard around something utterly immobile. Dorian kissed her thighs softly as he slid the stone away, not to bring her pleasure, but to comfort her.

At last, with a slick sound, the head of that stone slipped out and Manon gasped. Dorian put his mouth over the vacated opening and gave her a few licks to clean the trail of moisture it left dripping from her.

“How do you feel?” Dorian licked some of Manon off that stone cock.

“Empty,” she breathed, “both happily and  _unhappily_  empty. Give me a bit of time to adjust and I’ll be craving something a lot hotter in there.” Manon looked up at Dorian as he cleaned the stone cock, “Mmm, now there’s an attractive sight.”

Just for her, Dorian tipped his head back and pushed as much of that stone into his mouth and throat as he could stand, then gave it a few pulls in and out, imitating what Manon did so well to him with her own mouth. She laughed and he pulled it free, then tossed it aside into a pile of spare pillows, “Don’t expect me to do that for anyone but you.”

“Hum, I was just thinking it might be nice to have  _two_  males in me at once. I’ve done it before.” Manon winked, then burst out laughing at the way Dorian’s nose scrunched up, “Don’t worry Princeling, for some reason I don’t like the thought of sharing you with anyone.”

“Me either,” he agreed quickly.

Dorian bent down to pick up Manon’s ankles and turned her so that she was laying across the bed. She groaned, “Next time the smaller one, and we don’t leave it in as long.”

He huffed a laugh, “Gee, why does that sound familiar?”

“Because you were fussing over it like an old lady when you put it in and staring at me so hard in that meeting I thought you were going to burn holes in my head.” Manon shot him a rude gesture and wrapped her arms beneath her head.

“I couldn’t tell if you were in pain or enjoying it. I thought keeping you nice and wet would help ease any discomfort.” He smiled innocently, then sat on the side of the bed and put a hand on her hip, “Are you alright though? Truly?”

Manon rolled her eyes, “I’m fine Dorian, don’t fuss. If it bothered me too much I would have used our word.”

“Let me know when you’d like me to kiss it all better.” Dorian brushed hair from Manon’s forehead and gave her a simple kiss. She smiled against his mouth and hummed happily. “Careful Witchling, you aren’t so scary when you’re happy.”

“Well then, I guess you should keep me happy.”

“I intend to do that,” Dorian smiled, “for as long as you’d like.”

“What if I want to be kept happy forever?” Manon raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, “Well, I’m willing to do it for the next fifty years or so, then you’ll want to find someone a little less saggy.”

It was the closest he’d ever come to addressing the elephant in the room.

As much as he loved Manon, as much as he ached to spend eternity with her, the fact of the matter was that he was a human. Mortal. She could live another hundred years- a thousand even- if she was lucky. One day Dorian would be withered and ancient, and she’d still be as beautiful as she was now. One day, he would have to give her up, or she would be trapped sitting by his bedside while his eyes clouded and his heart stilled.

Manon sighed heavily, “Dorian, I suppose there’s something I should tell you.” She rolled onto her side (with minimal wincing) and put a hand on his thigh, “As I said, I don’t intend to share you. Ever. Whether you like it or not- hopefully you like it- you’re mine.”

He couldn’t bit back his smile, “It is an  _honor_.” He leaned over and gave Manon a slow, deep kiss.

When he sat back up, she chuckled, “I don’t think you understand just how great of an honor it is, Dorian. Fae have mates, but on the  _unbelievably_  rare occasion that one of us witches goes rogue and has the  _audacity_  to fall in love, we don’t share our partners. Especially not with Death, the old bastard.”

“I don’t understand.” Dorian frowned.

“I drink a little of your blood, you drink a lot of mine- don’t make that face, the humans got their vampire lore somewhere- and at the end of the ceremony a bond is created. Your life force is tied to mine. As long as I’m alive, you don’t age.”

His heart was pounding audibly, “Do you mean-“

“Only if you want it.” Manon was almost surprised to find her mouth had gone dry. She’d truly laid herself bare in every sense of the word.

She was a  _Blackbeak_ , and after knowing this human male for only a few months she was ready to tie her soul to his… But what about him? He’d said he loved her, he’d been saying it for a long time, but was it  _truly_  love or just lust on his part? Dorian owned her heart unconditionally, there was absolutely no question in Manon’s mind, but did he feel the same? Yes, they joked about eternity, but now that he knew it was possible, what would his reaction be?

It took a long while for the shock to pull back far enough that Dorian could speak, and he loosed a nervous laugh, “Manon I-“

She sat up immediately, “If the answer is ‘no’, that’s fine. I don’t even know why I said that, it was a joke. I wasn’t being serious,  _you’re_  the one making this weird.” 

Dorian caught her with one foot already off the bed. He pulled her into his lap and Manon allowed it. He held her tight, and those sapphire blue eyes stared into her soul as clearly as she’d stared into his behind that Valg.

He cleared his throat, “Let me say what I have to say please.  _Manon_   _I-“_ he paused for effect, “-want to spend forever with you, it’s as simple as that. I love you so much that sometimes it’s hard to breathe. I love you so much that I have to bite my tongue every time you go off with Abraxos because I’m terrified something will happen to you. I love you so much that all I can think about is holding you every single night for eternity, and how even that doesn’t sound like enough. I love you so much that the only question in my mind since we first met was what color wedding dress you’d choose. I love you so much that-“

She claimed his mouth with a kiss and Dorian did indeed wrap his arms around her tighter, turning her to face him fully. Her legs draped across the bed behind him and she held him as close as he did her.

“I want to spend forever with you,” she repeated in a whisper when they broke for air, “and it’s always been as simple as that. I loved you before I knew what this kind of love felt like. I love you, Dorian Havilliard, and I want you with me every single day between now and the ending of this world.”

“Well, since we’re on the same page, what do we do now?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Manon smiled, even as the light left her eyes, “ _After_  the war is won we will join. Not before. I won’t tie my life to yours if there is a chance you could be killed in battle.” A lethal calm slipped over her and the gold in her eyes seemed to turn molten, “If anyone takes you from me, I need to be able to hunt them down and break them body and soul. Slowly.”

“No one is going to take me away from you,” Dorian kissed Manon’s cheek even as his stomach knotted, “and no one is going to take  _you_  away from  _me,_ or I’ll make Aelin look tame. Before the dust on that battlefield has even settled, I will personally crown you Queen of Adarlan and  _our_  reign begins. There is no other future I will accept.”

“You crown me Queen of Adarlan, and I will crown you King of the Crochans,” Manon forced a glint of light into her eyes and tried to return to their teasing, “but not the kind of king who has any real power, of course.”

“Oh, like Rowan?”

“Exactly like Rowan. Except I won’t let Asterin shoot you.”

“Wait, what?” No one told Dorian  _that_  story.

Manon shrugged and kissed him again, “I don’t want to talk about the past- or worry about the future. I just want to be here with you right now.”

Dorian smoothed her hair, tangled his fingers into it, then returned her kiss, “What  _precisely_  would you like right now? Anything you want is yours.”

“I  _want_  what you promised me.” Manon rolled off Dorian’s lap and dragged him to his feet. At his confusion she only smiled, “You said you’d feed me.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “I forgot, you’re gravely ill. What would my queen like?” Dorian looked to the small bowl of fruit left over from what they’d plundered in the castle orchard, “Your choices are apples or apples.”

“I don’t want to eat that.” Manon made and face and turned back to Dorian, “I want you.”

There it was- that wild light in his eyes that whispered of love, fun, and sin, “You want me? Well, here I was under the impression you just  _take_  what you want.”

“I intend to. But you have a promise to keep.”

“Do you want to remove them or shall I?” Dorian waved a hand to emphasize how unfortunately clothed he was.

Manon huffed a bit, “ _You_  said  _you_  would feed me. Not that I’d have to feed myself.”

His grin was predatory as Dorian untucked his shirt and yanked it over his head. He threw it aside, kicked off his boots, and removed both pants and underwear in a single motion. Dorian came to Manon, already hard, and pulled her into one more kiss. She nipped at his lip and he opened his mouth for her to explore, to taste him while he stroked her sides with icy fingers. Only when her tongue slid back into her own mouth did he pull away and gently push Manon’s shoulders, “You’ll want to be on your knees when I feed you.”

 _Her_  smile almost made his heart stumble. It was wicked, hungry, and mischievous. She obediently slid to her knees, then opened her mouth and waited.

Dorian chuckled and put a hand on the back of her head, then took his cock with the other and lined it up with her lips. He eased forward, giving her just the head. When Manon’s hot, wet mouth wrapped around it Dorian threw his head back and let out a long, low groan. He instinctively pushed into her further and held her head in place. He pulled out, then thrust back in only a couple of inches.

Manon tapped his leg and Dorian released her head so that she could lean back. Her hand came to hold his cock, stroking it as she gave him an exasperated look, “I said ‘feed me’, not give me little nibbles.”

“Take it as deep as you want then,” Dorian grinned.

It was an old argument. Manon wanted him to manhandle her more since he was the  _only_  male she would let dominate her in the bedroom. Dorian, however, was still a good little princeling, and it always took a bit of prodding to convince him that the gentle way he’d fucked ladies of the court was  _nothing_  like how she wanted him to take her, to  _claim_  her as she claimed him when it was her turn to play dominant. Yes, he would tie her down, but he was still sweet when she wanted him to be a little rough.

Manon wrapped her lips once more around his cock and took him into her mouth. She rose on her knees and pushed his cock as far down her throat as she could stand- until her nose was mere inches from his pelvis. Manon’s eyebrows rose as she pulled back, then leaned forward and took him even deeper still.

 _See?_  She seemed to say,  _I can handle more than you think_.

Her hands wrapped around to squeeze Dorian’s ass as she picked up her speed. She moaned around the cock in her throat, sending wondrous vibrations through him that made Dorian gasp. She felt him twitch and a smile lit her eyes.

Dorian reached down and pulled her hands off of his rear. He held one tight over his heart and Manon rose just a bit further as he pulled the other one to his lips. Without the hands to give her leverage, she relied on Dorian’s growing thrusts of his hips to push his cock deeper into her mouth. Still, his moans were waking her own desire, and when he began to suck on her finger tips the groan that rumbled around his cock had nothing to do with her own desire to pleasure him. That little attention from his mouth made her entire body throb, but nothing more so than her aching breasts or the knot between her legs.

He continued to suck on her fingers and hold her other hand as the gentle rolls of his hips turned into harder and harder thrusts. Manon slid her teeth down- not hard enough to cut him, but hard enough to remind him of what she wanted.

“Do it now,” he whispered onto her fingers and released her.

Manon ran her hands down his torso slowly as she continued to bob her head. She took wanton pride at the feeling of his muscles shuddering harder and harder as her fingers drifted lower- not in fear, but in anticipation. The first time she’d tried it, she worried he would hate it. Not only had he enjoyed it immensely, he asked for it nearly every time they made love. The pain- how difficult it made it for him to come- seemed only to heighten his release when he finally found it.

So long as there was no lasting harm, Manon loved his roaring shout each time she did it, and she loved how it seemed to unleash him.

She slid her hands down the outside of his thighs, then released her iron nails and scraped up the inside all the way to the thin strip of skin behind his balls. Dorian shifted, opening his legs just a little bit wider while his hands slid into her hair, balancing himself on her. She watched his eyes closing and smiled at the tremble that wracked his body when she pulled her iron nails back in and dragged a fingernail along the tender flesh.

Manon grabbed his balls firmly and Dorian gasped. He rocked onto the tips of his feet and threw back his head. When she offered only a firm hand and nothing more, he whimpered. He was straining on the tips of his toes and only when that anticipation slipped back and his feet were flat on the ground did Manon strike.

Her thumb slipped around the curve of his balls and pressed  _hard_  into the skin at the top, catching him in a vice grip against her index finger. Dorian’s eyes opened wide and he gasped before screaming Manon’s name. She kept bobbing her head in time with the throbs she could feel pulsing out from where she held him tight and sucked harder at his cock.

Finally, overwhelmed in the pain and pleasure, the Princeling gave up his manners. His muscles were too taught with the glorious agony pounding through his body to be gentle. He tightened his grip on Manon’s head and began to thrust into her in earnest, harder and deeper than he’d dared only minutes before. She could have come herself from the raging intensity with which Dorian began to fuck her mouth.

“ _Manon_ ,” he groaned her name, “ _oh gods, yes!_ ” His gasps were turning into panting cries, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was ready to come. She was  _aching_ to rub at the apex of her own thighs, to find her release when he found his, but Manon knew from experience the second she moved her free hand off his thigh, Dorian would bind it right back where it was, or put a shield around her hips to stop her. He enjoyed the feel and taste of her climax far too much.

Dorian tensed further, thrust faster, and Manon released his balls only to scrape her iron nails along his thigh hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. Dorian screamed and pulled her against him until her nose was pressed into his stomach. He came hard inside her, and Manon swallowed as fast as she could. Sometimes it took only a handful seconds for Dorian to finish comming, but he’d been desperate for release for a long time. Ever since he slid that stone cock into her and walked with her to the meeting he’d been a mess. A shield of air over his own lap was all that kept his need from becoming obvious in that meeting.

His release slipped out around Manon’s lips as he just  _kept_  coming, but all she did was force him to let her back a little as she took rope after rope of him. After twenty seconds, Dorian’s cock began to soften and he forced his frozen muscles to unlock, releasing Manon’s head and pulling her back. She gasped and began to lick along the shaft, cleaning it. Dorian wiped some of the cum from around her mouth and held out his thumb for her to suck.

“I hope you’re not still hungry,” he was panting when he helped her to her feet and pressed her body against his, “it’s going to take some time to recharge.”

“I’m waiting for something else to fill me up,” she kissed him gently, but resisted the tender probe of his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Let me in,” Dorian pouted. He tried to claim her mouth again, but with similar results.

Manon pushed out of his arms and walked around to the bed. She sat at the edge and planted her feet on either side. Wide open, wholly exposed, “Go ahead then. Kiss me.”

He grinned and dropped to his knees. Manon liked it when he crawled to her. She felt his invisible binds fall into place, pinning her legs. A shield rose in front of her- she wouldn’t be able to touch him  _or_  herself, but she could lie back if she wanted. While Dorian reached up and stroked her skin from her ankles to her thighs, a warm pressure appeared over her breasts as his hands of air formed.

Dorian gave her a broad, hard lick and Manon gasped.

Her hips jerked as his tongue flicked across her knot, but his bonds rendered her immobile. She  _loved_  it- feeling that burning ache of pleasure and knowing she could do nothing to build it. She could only have what he gave her- and Dorian never  _once_  left her wanting. He would take care of her more thoroughly than she could stand, and just as anticipation had made his entire body shudder, she let herself tremble as his hands settled on either side of her opening.

With the tips of his fingers, he pulled her lower lips apart and exposed the pink inside he loved so much. Dorian kissed it softly, a greeting that set Manon’s blood boiling. He moved up and rested her knot against the seam of his lips, then began to roll them, gently rubbing it. She gasped sharply as Dorian adjusted so that one hand was holding her open while a single, thick finger from the other slid deep into her core. Her toes curled and Manon arched her back.

Immediately, a cushion of air rose beneath her and straps wrapped around her torso and arms. Manon was wholly locked in place, her back straining and making it utterly impossible for her to see what Dorian was doing. She couldn’t even see his hair over the rise of her chest and stomach. Without knowing what he would do next, a shiver of pure, hot need ran through her entire body from her core to her peaked nipples- which those invisible hands were rolling and pinching.

“ _Dorian!_ ” Manon screamed when the tip of his tongue flicked across her knot. He felt the change in his shield when she fought against it to thrust her hips up, but didn’t let it give an inch. It held her with gentle firmness and he chuckled.

She felt herself being stretched as a second finger slid in, filling her. Dorian sucked her knot with impressive force and began to pump his fingers in and out of her, still holding her lips aside. Manon heard something shift, a slight scrape against the floor, and then Dorian pressed a small, round stone into her opening. His magic wrapped around it, directed it, and at last sealed it hard against the ridged skin that marked her deepest pleasure center.

“ _Fuck!_ “ Dorian adjusted so that one foot was flat on the ground and he began to tap it, the force of his foot hitting the floor was transferred into the stone. It was the same magic that had filled that stone cock, but this time instead of the entire thing throbbing with the force of each footfall, it was a small, polished rock the size of a toe that practically  _buzzed_  with extra force.

Manon screamed.

She didn’t stop screaming in pure, blinding ecstasy as Dorian licked, pumped his fingers, and tapped his foot harder,  _faster_. He moved his finger to her knot and slid his tongue as deep inside her as he could, utterly starved for her salty-sweet taste.

He kissed her passionately, gathering her moisture and eagerly letting it drench his chin and cheeks as Manon tried to thrash against the bonds. All she could move was her toes, and Dorian glanced to them, waiting for that moment when they stopped curling and began to flatten out, signaling her impending orgasm. As much as she screamed and cried as she was utterly overwhelmed with violent passion, she hadn’t come yet.

Dorian grinned even as he worked, he knew it would be a strong one. The kind that gave him  _plenty_  to drink.

Every jolt of that stone sent lightning radiating out from Manon’s core to her nipples. Every pinch or flick sent a quieter rumble of thunder straight back. She couldn’t think past the pleasure that glorious male between her legs was giving her. The only male she ever wanted there. Her breath caught in her throat as something pushed against her- not a rising wave ready to sweep her away, but a solid wall of molten lava that burned through her veins and would boil her entire being.

The force and pace of Dorian’s drumming only increased as her entire body tensed. He felt a phantom rumble around his tongue and released her with both hands. Dorian wrapped them beneath her hips and held her hard against his face, relying on his nose to dig into her knot as he sealed her entrance wholly.

A few final slams of his heel into the ground sent that burning heat barreling through her very soul.

She didn’t come in one long scream, but several loud, wrenching ones as her body erupted around Dorian’s mouth. He kept licking at her, kept tapping his foot, kept grabbing at her with those hands of air, but all of Dorian’s focus was on drinking the nectar Manon gave him. Each scream was accompanied by a fresh wave, and he took them as expertly as she’d taken his release. He drew it out as long as she wanted, and counted the seconds patiently. His cock hardened as they ticked by and her body remained taught, her screams ripped from her lungs, and though she no longer flooded his mouth, her moisture coated his tongue.

When that force finally released her- an  _impressive_  minute and a half later- Manon shattered Dorian’s tethers with the strength of her passion. She grabbed his head and shoved it back, covering herself to stop him from returning. She panted and rolled to the side as best she could, until Dorian severed the rest of his bonds. He remained between her legs as he had before, massaging her thighs while Manon’s entire body shook. His foot was still, and when he began to plant kisses against her skin, he made sure to stay far from her hand and core.

Manon was laying with an arm over her eyes as she continued to pulse with phantom remnants of lightning. Her hips bucked softly with each shock from her core and light still flashed behind her eyelids. She gulped down air greedily, she could  _feel_  sweat dripping from her skin.

Manon was wholly and completely ravaged, but she wasn’t done yet.

“ _The headboard_ ,” she panted, “ _now._ ”

Dorian stood. He waved a hand and his magic rippled across the bedframe. In front of the solid headboard appeared bands of steel-strong beams that crossed with little loops here and there as needed. Usually he tied Manon to them when she was feeling  _really_  wild, but it was also for his use.

He couldn’t be bound. He’d tried once, when Manon was out of the room. He got as far as sliding a padded cuff onto his wrist before he began to shake and sweat. Manon found him in the corner half an hour later, still shivering. She’d held him tight and whispered comforts into his ear until he found peace again, but ever since that day she kept her cuffs under tight lock and key.

This was a continuation of their compromise that first night Dorian and Manon had made love in a cabin deep in the woods. Then, Manon had Dorian hold onto a doorframe as she played with him (he destroyed it on accident). Now, he grabbed onto the bars of the grid and let her crawl between his legs and push them where she wanted before he secured them in his own magic. His legs he could bind freely, he even liked Manon’s padded restraints around his ankles, but just not his hands.

 _Never_  his hands.

“Are you alright?” She always asked him once he was secure.

Dorian flashed a teasing smile and rolled his fingers on the bar, a nervous tick to remind himself he was free. He didn’t send the ripple of that motion to the stone still inside her, “Are  _you_?”

“If you take your hands off that bar, I get to bite you.” She crawled over his leg and got up from the bed.

“Promise?”

Manon shot him a look as she picked up one of the candles burning on the desk, “We need to come up with a different punishment, you like that one too much.” She eyed the circle of tiny white dots on one shoulder. Anyone else would dismiss them, but Manon knew they were from where her iron teeth had accidentally pierced his skin as he made her come one night. Dorian set those wounds with salt and wore them with as much pride as any token of love.

“Do whatever you want. You know how I feel about punishment.” Dorian’s cock twitched as he thought about how it would feel when that hot wax began to drip across his body.

“Maybe the punishment should be  _no_  punishment.” Manon crawled onto the bed beside his prone form and held the candle away, reconsidering.

He whimpered and flashed an exaggerated pout.

“ _Child_.”

“Old hag.” Dorian shot back.

Manon’s eyes flashed and she tipped the candle over him, “Oops.”

He hissed and arched his back as a river of hot wax poured across his cock. Dorian gasped and cursed at the pain, even as he laughed.

“I wonder what you like more,” Manon laid on her side up against Dorian and though he was bound by his own magic, she slipped her legs under and over one of his thighs so that it pressed against her knot. “Do you like biting?” Manon took his nipple in her mouth and pricked it with her teeth hard enough to wipe the grin off his face, “Or do you like burning?” She poured more wax onto his other nipple.

“Both,” he gasped and arched his back. The pulse of pain went straight to his cock. Manon had always been  _so_  good at timing pain and pleasure so they intertwined as lovers in his body.

“Both? So greedy.” She tipped a trail of wax drops from Dorian’s chest to his groin, left a trail of it around his cock- now pressed firmly against his stomach- and back up. She thought of something and sat up, “Dorian?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve never tried this, so I want to make sure it’s alright, but how would you feel about having your eyes covered?”

Dorian breathed a sigh, “ _Extremely_ aroused.”

“Good.” She grabbed a blanket folded at the bottom of the bed (his feet got cold at night) and draped it over his face, leaving only Dorian’s mouth exposed. He grinned widely and rolled his fingers again on that bar.

Manon straddled his leg, still grinding herself against his hard thigh, and bent down to kiss him. Dorian let her tongue into his mouth and only when his body had relaxed into the kiss did she tip the candle over and pour more hot wax onto the inside of his other thigh.

He jerked and gasped against her mouth. His arms strained against the bar and even though he couldn’t move his legs, Manon pushed herself down and rolled her hips as though he’d been able to move that leg against her.

“So, what do you think?” She pushed up off his chest and began to ride his leg slowly as she dripped wax onto his chest, “Do you like it?”

“ _Oh my god, yes_.” He jerked the toes of one foot and Manon felt a shock run through her core.

_Right, the stone._

“Don’t you dare,” She hissed and poured wax between the toes of the offending foot, “I’ll tell you when I want some fun. You bind that foot back up right now or I’m pulling the stone out and shoving it up your ass.”

“I might like that,” he grinned again and tapped his foot.

“We tried it after raiding the wine cellar. You  _hated_  it,” She reminded him.

“I don’t remember that.”

“You were piss drunk.”

She could  _feel_  the look of mock concern Dorian flashed, “You took advantage of me?!”

“You said you wanted me to fuck you sober.”

“And you  _listened_?”

“You said that  _before_  we started drinking.” Manon poured wax directly onto his balls.

Dorian’s laugh was mixed with a bark of pain and Manon rocked against his thigh again, leaving a trail of moisture behind. She poured a few drops of wax over it, mixing the cold kiss of wet skin with the bite of flame. He bit his lip and threw his head back. A bead of his own moisture dripped from the tip of his cock. It wasn’t flat anymore, it was arching as it hardened.

“Make it cold.” Manon cooed. She didn’t wait for any physical sign he’d obeyed, she simply swatted at his cock. Dorian gasped and chips of frozen wax broke away from the smooth skin (considering how much he enjoyed playing with wax, he’d long since removed the hair from his more sensitive parts).

Manon removed herself from Dorian’s leg and straddled his hips. She lifted the head of his cock and rubbed it along the seam of her sex.  _Both_  of them shuddered at the contact.

“Take it off,” Dorian whispered, “ _please_.”

He loved to watch himself splitting her, sliding into her, seeing the whimsical look on her face as he filled her more wholly and completely than any stone cock ever could.

She considered denying him this time, continuing her play with his body, but Manon eventually gave in and pushed his head hard enough against her core to just barely split her sex and pin it in place. When she could release it, she reached forward and whipped the blanket aside.

Dorian’s eyes went straight to her swollen red lips parted around the throbbing head of his cock. Manon poured a stream of wax across the base of his shaft even as she began to lower herself onto him. His eyes went wide and unfocused as the two sensations blasted over him- pain and indescribable pleasure.

Manon took him in a single push, and he felt the ridge of that stone resting along his shaft, digging into her in a way she did not mind one bit.

She rose up, and as she came down on him again she poured more wax over his nipples. He watched her parting around him, how slick she left his cock, then watched her eyes as she fell victim to the same agonizing pleasure holding him. Every time she shoved him back inside of her, Manon poured hot wax on Dorian’s most sensitive parts. His chest, the upper edges of his arms, his balls, his thighs, his toes- anything she could reach was fair game, and he loved every last second of it.

“ _Fuck this_ ,” Manon was breathless when she blew the candle out and threw it over her shoulder. She bent over Dorian, grabbed the rung above where his knuckles were white with the force of his grip, and began to ride him hard and fast. Her swaying breasts were low enough that Dorian lifted his head and took one in his mouth. Every time she rose up and moved forward he bit down on it, keeping her nipple for himself.

Manon cried out at the violent shock that sent to her core and began to rise higher, harder, forcing Dorian to yank at her with his teeth. She knew all it would take was a tap of her finger on his only inches away for him to stop, but she absolutely did not want him to.

 _So good_ , it felt so incredibly good to have Dorian inside her. His steely heat blended with her own, sending sweat beading once more on her skin. He unlocked his hips and began to pound up, meeting every thrust of her body.  Even as Manon loosed a long, low moan at the feeling, Dorian shouted in pain and she knew he’d sealed himself with a clamp, staving off his release the same way she had earlier.

“I only have one left,” she gasped as he thrust. Four times- she’d already come four times in the last half hour. As much as she loved the throbbing of his cock so deep inside her, she knew she’d need the rest of the day to recover.

“Don’t come,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “because I have two left.”

Manon knew what he was asking and immediately concentrated on  _not_  feeling that glorious friction between her legs. She pictured the castle as they flew in for the first time, her friend’s faces,  _his_  friend’s faces- anything to push back the rising wave.

“Make it fast,” Manon whispered when she was ready.

“Bite me,” he ordered. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hesitated until she managed to resist the incredible feeling of him grinding against her knot, and then slid her iron teeth free only a few millimeters. She opened wide and bit down against his shoulder, over the scars she’d left before.

He had something else in mind as he wiped out all magic, flipped Manon onto her back, and slammed into her deep and hard. He pushed his entire body over hers, dragging her through the blankets and sheets of the bed and forcing her teeth in deeper,  _deeper_.

As the agony washed over him, Dorian came with Manon’s name on his lips and his blood filling her mouth. He wrapped a hand around her head and pushed harder, thrusting even as he emptied himself inside her. Begrudgingly, she took the hint and slid her iron teeth wholly free. Dorian screamed as the iron went deeper and began to burn at his magic, his hips bucked, and he came even harder than he had in Manon’s mouth.

When she retracted him, he realized he’d stopped thrusting and pulled back to check on her, “I didn’t hurt you did-“

“Flip me over and make me scream,” she hissed. Her pupils were wholly dilated. What was beneath him wasn’t  _entirely_  the Manon he’d been bedding so far.

“What if I want to watch you when you-“

“ _Flip me over and make me scream_ ,” he’d caught her unaware when he forced her teeth deeper into his shoulder and filled her mouth with his blood. It overwhelmed her control and filled her with a dangerous lust. If Manon let Dorian cradle her as she came, she might just take out a piece of his throat. It wouldn’t kill him before she came to her senses, but it would probably scare the crap out of him.

Dorian did as he was told without further question. He pulled out long enough for her to roll over and grab fistfuls of the sheet before he slammed back into her. The pain in his shoulder, and the ache in his balls, kept him hard as her heat wrapped around him once more. He reached around Manon and began to play with the knot between her legs.

She wasn’t moaning so much as growling as she fought the primal witch back. Her iron nails were wholly out, as were her teeth. Dorian could see her fighting against the urge to turn around and strike at him even as threw herself back to match his thrusts. He bound her hands to the bed and only used his invisible currents to pinch and flick at her nipples (he feared for his fingers if she bit).

When he was certain those growls were edged in moans, Dorian began to tap his foot once more.

The first vicious pulse from the stone made them  _both_  scream. It raced along his cock as he thrust and sent shockwaves through Manon’s body. By the third, there were no growls and her iron nails slid back into her hands.

“ _Dorian_!” the voice that cried out his name was wholly hers, even with the scent of his still-flowing blood filling her world.

“ _Manon! Fuck_ ,” he panted as she clamped down around him mid-thrust, pressing the head of his cock against the pulsing stone.

“ _Harder_ ,” she begged, “ _everything- harder_.”

He shifted the magic that connected to the stone from his foot to where Manon’s body slammed against his, letting even  _more_  force radiate from it. The hand between her legs became a blur as it whipped across her knot, and his other set of hands stopped flicking at her nipples and began to pinch and twist them.

Dorian released Manon from her binds and she sat up against him, pushing his cock harder against the now-throbbing stone. She grabbed his shoulder and turned her head to lock her lips around the bottom ridge of her bite. He felt her sucking at his blood as she moaned.

His movement became erratic as his hips seized and he was overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure. Manon shoved herself down on his cock harder and harder, bruising them both as blood and lust mixed. She grabbed Dorian’s hand and forced three of his fingers inside her, with his palm grinding against her knot.

Even as he came, filling Manon once more, she screamed against his shoulder and her body erupted. Dorian grabbed at the front of her and lifted her skin just a little from the front of his cock, letting their releases flood his hand. He let her feast on the iron sweetness of his blood as he roared her name and lost himself in the shuddering heat of her body.

When he felt that catch before her muscles began to spasm, Dorian threw his hand against her harder, slid his fingers in deeper, and grabbed the stone his magic held against her walls. He pulled his hand back, taking that stone out with him before Manon let out a shout and fell away, hypersensitive with her release.

His cock slipped out of her with a slick sound and both of them collapsed on the bed. Neither could move for a long, long time. Manon’s entire body shook with phantom flashes of lightning, even his hips were bucking as though his now-empty cock could pump just a  _little_  more seed into her. She swallowed hard and wiped her sweat-soaked face in the sheets of the bed. They weren’t panting so much as trembling and whimpering as the pleasure that rumbled in their bodies hinted towards pain- not that Dorian had the energy to harden again for a while yet.

Manon rolled onto her side and lifted his hand. It was still covered in their juices, and that stone was still held between two shuddering fingers. She tossed the stone aside and began to clean him carefully, delicately.

Dorian huffed a laugh, “You don’t need to apologize for that, you  _know_  I liked it.” He began at his pinky and together they licked his hand clean. When their tongues met around his middle finger he sucked at the tip of hers, then moved the hand out of the way as they kissed.

“You’ll be in trouble for the biting later,” Manon promised when they stopped for air. Dorian hooked his legs around her, holding her in place as she began to clean away the blood on his wounds, “I get to rub the salt in this time.”

“Whatever you want,” he grinned, though he knew she had little stomach for the very non-sexual pain it caused. Other men she would gladly see suffer, but Dorian was her chosen mate- if a witch could be said to have one. She hated anything that truly brought him harm.

Under more controlled circumstances, the taste of his blood soothed some of that bloodlust in her veins. Her body was utterly spent, his too, and yet they took turns cleaning one another top to bottom (when Manon finally brushed the rest of the wax off of him), until finally Dorian suggested a proper bath.

“I can’t wait to spend forever like this.” Manon whispered as Dorian followed her into the tub.

“Me neither,” he held her against him as they relaxed and his magic made the water hot. They traded kisses and took turns washing one another.

They left the bathroom and went out through the bedroom doors to their little parlor. A note sat on the table beside a bowl of soup- judging from the steam it was fresh. Manon picked the little paper up- it was in Sorrel’s handwriting:

> ‘Feel better soon, and Asterin says to remind you that “other people live here too- SO CLOSE THE GODS-DAMNED WINDOW NEXT TIME YOU RUTTING ANIMALS" ← her words’


End file.
